


Flat Coke and Take Out

by eyrror



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AU - Single Dad, Anal Sex, And Cole LOVES Connor, And Connor is Hank's Android Neighbor, Cole is Still Alive, M/M, Oral Sex, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15636546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyrror/pseuds/eyrror
Summary: Wherein Cole is still alive and Hank works the late shift so he can always see his son off to school. An android moves next door several months after the revolution, but Hank is still pretty skeptical about these things. Especially when Cole starts taking a liking to his new android neighbor and talks about him incessantly. Hank has to meet him, and it goes unexpectedly okay. Maybe androids aren't evil job-takers after all, even if Connor happens to be joining the DPD as well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raider_crow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raider_crow/gifts).



> In which I shove in your face that I’m Midwestern despite being a Canadian transplant and I (for some reason) really miss it. Cherish your dumb fields of corn, Midwesterners. And your low grocery prices. 
> 
> Dedicating this to Bobby, who made the mistake of becoming my friend and rp partner after commenting religiously on [DeathAnxiety.exe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15186638/chapters/35219462). This one's for you. ;)
> 
> Additionally, this awesome idea actually came from [muchymozzarella](http://muchymozzarella.tumblr.com/post/176469055459/imagine-a-fic-where-cole-survives-and-hank-is-his) on tumblr.

March in 2039 would’ve felt like any other cumbersome Winter day in Michigan if it weren’t for the androids gaining their freedom. It was weird enough with the androids on Hank’s police force who, for some reason, decided to stay and got desks inside the bullpens as opposed to parking spaces on their perimeters. And it certainly didn’t feel right when the house next door to him sold and he saw the person moving in with an LED on the side of their head. How in the fuck did an android even afford a house?

 

At first, Hank thought he could just ignore the problem for a while. If he could still call androids that without being politically incorrect. He saw the android move in completely alone. No master, no partner, no friends. No one even helped him move in. It didn’t seem like he had any issues pulling couches along the sidewalk nor carrying piles of boxes all by his lonesome. Still, the first time he got a really good look at his new neighbor was when he was outside removing the weeds from the untended lawn and watering the hapless, parched rose bushes that clung to life. The place had been vacant for far too long, and the realtors gave up trying to save the roses when a particularly brutal winter pummeled them. Continued to pummel them. It still snowed once a week, though not often to the caliber it did in January and February.

 

He didn’t know the android’s name, but one day when he came home from work, he saw the neighbor’s paper sitting in the middle of the pavement, barely on the driveway. Hank instinctively walked up to the bundle of newspaper, looking at the label on it.

 

Connor. 1778 York Road.

 

That’s all she wrote. Literally. The bot didn’t have a last name. He wasn’t supposed to call it a bot, anyway. He walked up to the doorstep of the house, placing the paper on a coir doormat with an enthusiastic ‘Welcome!’ shaved into it in black. Rolling his eyes, Hank turned on his heel to walk back to his own house. He’s not sure what possessed him to do a good deed for an android he didn’t even know.

 

Shoving his key into the lock of his front door, he jiggled the keyhole and pushed the knob down and the door open, huffing when he finally got through. Fuck, had to fix that thing at some point. Cole might not be able to open it someday, damn door had begun to swell again.

 

As soon as he came through the door, he heard the sound of muffled gunshots and over-exaggerated groans coming from the living room television. Hank made his way through the kitchen, putting his messenger bag on a dining room chair and then looking over the couch to see Cole playing Battlefield. Old school. At least the kid appreciated the classics, even if they were the bloody ones that a ten year-old totally shouldn’t be playing. The community was long dead on the old gen consoles (he hated to talk about them like that) and Hank refused to let Cole have a headset to talk to players anyhow. He came up behind Cole quietly, now practically tiptoeing, then put both his hands on the kid’s tiny shoulders, whispering a harsh, “Boo!”

 

Cole jumped, then huffed out a sigh when he turned his head, lips pursed in a pout.

 

“That’s because you didn’t say hi to your old man,” chided Hank, ruffling Cole’s hair affectionately before heading to the kitchen and looking in the fridge while his son yelled out a late greeting. “You eaten yet, kiddo?”

 

“I had some chips!” He answered, back to his perky self, the monstrous noises of dying men background noise to their conversation. Hank toed the trash-can foot, watching it spring open to reveal an entirely empty bag of Lays.

 

“Some? More like _some_ body spoiled their dinner,” he called, going back to the fridge and grabbing some ingredients for a late supper and whipping out a skillet and saucepan. “You’re still gonna eat all your vegetables, got it? I don’t care if you skimp on protein or carbs, but you’re eating this broccoli.”

 

“Fine, dad,” moaned his son, quitting out of Battlefield and then turning off his Xbox before padding into the kitchen with bare feet, jumping onto a kitchen stool to watch his father cook. It was their little tradition. Hank would get home late and Cole would watch him cook. Hank would ask him about school, and Cole would say it’s fine, and then they’d eat and go to bed. Sometimes his father would stay up later with an opaque bottle clutched in his fist, sometimes he didn’t and he took a glass of what looked like flat Coke to his room. It depended on the evening.

 

Tonight was a bottle kind of night. Hank popped the cap off a dark, chestnut bottle and immediately took it to his lips, downing a generous swig. After putting down the bottle across from himself and Cole on the counter, he began preparing vegetables to throw in a stirfry. “So, is that Billy kid still being a dickwad?”

 

Cole giggled at the word, knowing he couldn’t use it himself and making hearing it all the sweeter when you couldn’t echo it. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “But it’s okay, because Mrs. Alexander talked to him today before recess, and he didn’t even say anything to me for the rest of the day!”

 

Man, Cole was such a happy kid. Even when the going got tough. Even when Hank didn’t make it home till late some nights and he sent takeout to the house, telling the delivery people to just ring the doorbell and go, not expecting anyone to open up. He didn’t want Cole talking to strangers. He was too friendly. Too easy to snatch up with his naivete and curiosity.

 

“You tell her he was bullying you?”

 

“Mmhm,” he nodded, reaching toward the cutting board to grab a bell pepper slice. Hank thanked god that the kid actually liked vegetables. He sure as fuck didn’t.

 

“Good job, kiddo. I’m proud of you. That isn’t easy,” Hank smiled, lifting the bottle back to his lips and aspirating after a swallow of beer. “If he keeps it up even after Mrs. Alexander talks to him, I’ll come to class for a little demonstration of what you need to be a police officer in Detroit,” added Hank slowly, raising a brow at Cole as if to tell him in a nonverbal manner that he certainly meant something other than just handcuffs. Of course, he was kidding. He wouldn’t threaten a child. Maybe their degenerate parents, though. Cole barely saw him and somehow _he_ knew right from wrong.

 

Hank threw the broccoli, bell peppers, and onions into the skillet, filling the saucepan with water and rice and putting both on the stove. “Did you have fun at work today?” Came the question behind him. Cole was so damn sweet.

 

“Yes, I did, sweetheart,” he answered softly.

 

“Did you put away any bad guys today?” Asked the youngster excitedly.

 

“Not today, but probably soon. Got a big break on a tough case today,” laughed Hank, stirring the steaming vegetables, hearing the pop of too-hot olive oil and turning the burner down. As if his mind already started to wander, Cole began asking Hank about other topics unrelated to his police work, eventually veering into their new neighbor.

 

As Hank set down their dinner at the dining table, Cole dramatically plopped down into a chair next to his father, hand already reaching for the silverware.

 

“I saw Connor today!” He said excitedly, spearing a piece of broccoli before putting it in his mouth. “He said hello!”

 

“Anyone would,” muttered Hank quietly. “Did he do anything weird?” Asked the detective suspiciously. It was in his nature to question any man who interacted with his son. Women, too, when the situation called for it.

 

“Nu-uh,” answered Cole, pushing more rice and veggies into his mouth. Hank begrudgingly mimicked the movement. He needed to go shopping. Vegetarian meals really didn’t cut it for him. And he’d already eaten almost all of his rice. He didn’t have a lot to fall back on to continue avoiding the veggies he’d stir fried. “Just playing in the yard.”

 

“Playing in the yard?”

 

“Yeah, with a shovel and stuff?” He answered, mouth full. Hank pointed at him with a blank expression, and Cole covered his mouth instinctively.

 

“Man, that guy does a lot of gardening despite the ground being frozen as hell,” mused Hank.

 

“He makes it look like sand!” Chimed the ten year-old.

 

Hank rolled his eyes, “Sure he does. Don’t mess around with him too much. You don’t know what androids are like, Cole.”

 

Dejectedly, Cole sighed, “Okay, dad…”

 

***

 

Several more uneventful days passed by at the station. Hank really wasn’t any closer to catching this robbery ring than he was when he told Cole he thought he’d gotten them. No such luck. Locking down a meeting and inserting their CI was proving far more difficult than anticipated. So when Hank came home, it was a flat coke and takeout kind of night from the kid’s eyes.

 

Excited to eat something unhealthy (or as unhealthy as Hank would let him get, eating tempura-fried veggies), he hardly said a word as he scarfed down their dinner.

 

“Bad news, champ. I was wrong about the guys I thought I was gonna lock up. Our android friend couldn’t be bothered to learn any decent human slang terms, so they knew it was bogus,” sighed Hank, shoveling General Tso’s chicken into his mouth. He knew Cole probably had no idea what he was talking about, but he would simplify the cases as much as he could to talk with his son about them. He’d try to stay a hero in the kid’s eyes for as long as he possibly could. It was the biggest thing that kept him going.

 

“You should ask Connor! He understands when I use the same funny words the kids at school do!”

 

 _Pray tell, what kinds of funny words might those be_ , Hank thought cynically. Probably the kind that would get Cole grounded if he said them in front of his father. “What did I say about hanging around that android, Cole?”

 

“He’s really nice, dad! Yesterday, he saw me getting off the bus and told me that if I ever feel lonely, I can sit outside and talk to him!”

 

Hank looked at Cole with an almost cold expression, lips pressed into a tight line: “Why would he say that?”

 

“He knows you come home really late.” Cole said it so simply. Like it wasn’t a big deal he was never around. Like he wasn’t being deprived of a normal home life most of the time. Like he wasn’t a little fucked up because he never had anyone to come home to.

 

“It’s not that late…” Returned Hank defensively, hiding his frown with a bite of rice. He tried to soothe his wounded pride, reminding himself that he always saw Cole off in the morning on the bus. That he took Cole in with his battered Lincoln whenever the kid asked. That on every day off, they did something fun even when Hank struggled with a hangover or one more sleepless night.

 

Cole swallowed before speaking this time, and flashed a big smile: “It’s okay! I hung out with Connor today.”

 

Hank grumbled disapprovingly, trying to decide how to go about this blatant invasion of privacy on the part of the android. He didn’t know the android, the android didn’t know him. He had no right to pal around with his kid and make him feel like an inadequate parent.

 

“All right, tomorrow, tell him that I can’t walk you to the bus stop on Friday,” Hank proposed. He could indeed walk Cole, but he wasn’t going to tell the kid that. He was too honest and Hank wanted to meet this new friend of Cole’s before it got any weirder.

 

Cole nodded obediently, excusing himself from the dinner table politely after asking if he could go play video games. Hank smiled and let him, cleaning the table of their leftovers by shoving some boxes in the fridge and others in the trash.

 

He went to his room, whiskey in hand.

 

***

 

Another two days and Hank was busier than ever, Captain Fowler dishing way more cases than he was prepared to take at a time to him. Sure, Fowler said it was fine if he suspended them within a day or two. But it didn’t make Hank any less stressed, and it sure didn’t make his throbbing headache go away any sooner.

 

Most of his day consisted of bouncing between desk work and riding around town doing interviews, serving subpoenas, and scarfing down a couple different orders from the Chicken Feed. When the clock struck six, he clocked out on his desktop and packed up to go home. He figured he’d surprise Cole by coming back early, despite the restless day. He even stopped by the store on his way home to get the ingredients to make lasagna, and even a small chocolate cake. Hank could really go for some comfort food after a long day, and he knew Cole wouldn’t complain. He never ate like this around the kid, but he sure as hell did at work.

 

When he pulled up to the driveway, he saw Cole walking down Connor’s driveway, the front door of the android’s house only just shutting. When the boy caught sight of his father’s Lincoln, he waved enthusiastically, running across their yards to meet Hank as he stepped out of the driver’s side of his vehicle.

 

“Dad!” Cried Cole happily, bear-hugging his father. Hank squatted down and picked Cole up for a couple of seconds to hug him tightly, putting him back down as soon as he remembered he was too old for this shit if he wanted to stay out of a wheelchair.

 

“Thought I’d come home early today. I’ve got some stuff you might like for dinner,” he said, opening the trunk and fishing out his grocery bags.

 

“What is it?” Asked Cole, pretending to try and angle his head to see in the bags, despite their lack of transparency.

 

“Patience, kiddo,” he chuckled, putting the bags down to fish out his keys from deep pockets, unlocking the door and swearing it was getting harder every time. Before going inside, he cast his gaze to the house next door, watching a light flicker on and a figure move between the light. Hank turned and walking inside, giving the bag with cake in it to Cole and dragging the lot of savory food with himself as he shut and locked the front door.

 

“Put it on the counter for me, Cole,” he instructed, coming up beside the kid and doing what he’d requested. Cole obeyed, but pulled down the bag around the object in the bag, seeing it was a chocolate cake. His eyes lit up and he placed his hands over the transparent lid, grinning wildly: “Can I have some?”

 

“After dinner, Cole.”

 

“Please! Please, dad!” Begged the kid, sticking out his bottom lip.

 

Hank sighed and shook his head, “Fine. A small bit. Got it?”

 

Cole nodded happily, pumping his fist in a display that he’d won over his father. He bounded to the kitchen cabinet with plates, gently taking one down and setting it on the counter next to the cake as Hank removed the lid and cut a slice with a butcher knife.

 

“Thanks, dad,” he smiled, grabbing a fork before sitting at the counter to watch his father cook. As always.

 

“Any time, kiddo.”

 

***

 

Cole had succeeded in telling Connor he needed a companion for the bus stop the day prior, and was thoroughly surprised when he realized his father was coming with him in the morning.

 

“But I thought you had to work early?”

 

“I don’t. I just wanted to meet this Connor guy.” Hank didn’t like lying to Cole, but one way or another he was going to have to in order to meet the android that was buddying up to his son. Might as well keep it simple.

 

They walked out the door after Hank made Cole breakfast, their other daily tradition, and Hank made his lunch, stuffing a freezer pack into his lunchbox and handing it down to his son. Connor was already waiting outside at the bottom of their driveway in an officer's uniform, initially facing where the bus picked Cole up to make sure it wasn’t early. When he heard the door open, the brunette turned around with a smile and Cole dashed down the driveway to tackle the man around his waist. The uniform threw him. Hank hadn’t seen him at the department _once._ Was this a joke?

 

“Cole! Jesus, slow down! It’s still icy!” He called after his son, his tone gruff and protective. Hank stepped up to the android, seeing his LED spinning a calm blue while he smiled down at Cole, hugging him back and then lifting his chin to meet Hank’s eyes.

 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Anderson.”

 

“Hank’s fine,” muttered the lieutenant, crossing his arms. “Connor, right? No last name?”

 

“Not as of yet, as it were,” the android answered. Hank found himself almost short of staring at this android’s eyes. They were so deep and conveyed this incredible human empathy. Even his voice was soft. Hank was the polar opposite of this guy. _Maybe that was why Cole liked him_ , he mused bitterly.

 

“I see,” he nodded, Cole now having let go and tromping out in front of them as they walked side by side. “I’ve never seen you before, you’re DPD?” Asked Hank, pointing a thumb at his uniform.

 

“Oh, yes. Currently, I’m in the academy sitting in on some classes regarding your policing methods. I moved here from Columbus’ Police Department.”

 

“Don’t expect an O-H out here, buddy,” snorted Hank.

 

The android looked at him blankly.

 

“O-H. Like—”

 

“I-O.” The android actually had the gall to smile.

 

“God, if my kid wasn’t here, first thing out of my mouth would start with F and end with U,” he hissed, narrowing his eyes. This fucker just caught him and got him to do The OSU chant. What a cock.

 

 _And_ he chuckled. A sound Hank didn’t want nor expect his heart to skip on, but he quickly attributed to drinking more coffee than normal that morning.

 

“My apologies. As I was saying, I was in investigations with Columbus. We specialize more in property offenses and victimless crime, so I figured I’d move here before my term begins to learn what to expect. You teach your officers...quite differently out here,” he commented distantly, lip twitching downwards.

 

“Yeah, well, people are dicks out here. Columbus hardly counts as a city. Or at least, it didn’t used to. You guys didn’t have much going on. But Detroit’s always been a hotbed for shitstacks and lowlifes for us,” shrugged Hank.

 

“It must appear so, given your drastically different procedures and crime-prevention strategies.”

 

“At this point, I can’t imagine anything different.”

 

“What do you do, Mr. Anderson?” Asked Connor, not intending on using Hank’s first name out of respect. Hank’s lip twitched downwards at this.

 

“I’m a lieutenant. For the fucks in investigations.” Hank barely noticed he’d cursed in front of Cole again, but counted himself lucky that the kid was on his phone, completely distracted. The usual thing that happened whenever Hank began talking to someone else.

 

“Lieutenant Anderson, then. My apologies, sir,” nodded Connor formally, correcting himself with Hank’s earned title. Hank might actually have to work with this guy if Connor does investigations like he says.

 

When they came to the end of the line, Cole turned around to face them with a grin as the bus drove up behind him, coming to a stop with the doors flinging open.

 

“Have a good day at work, dad! You too, Connor!”

 

“I’ll see you later, Cole. Be good today,” waved Hank, smiling at the kid as he got onto the bus. Connor watched Hank as he waved, then looked at Cole and mimicked the movement, not desiring to overshadow the boy’s father.

 

Once the door’s shut, Hank realized Connor was staring at him again. He gave the man an odd look, then a once-over. The uniform still struck him as odd.

 

“I thought the academy started early,” deadpanned Hank.

 

“It does, but when Cole told me he didn’t have you to walk him to school, I decided to forgo my first couple classes to escort him. But imagine my surprise, it was because you wanted to meet me.” Connor smiled at the thought, arching his brow at the lieutenant.

 

Hank sputtered, his eyebrows reaching for his hairline. “I didn’t want to meet you! I wanted to see who the fuck my son kept talking about all the time like he was the best thing since sliced bread,” he fired back, swinging around and walking back to their houses. He hardly waited for Connor to follow, already sensing the guy was on his heels anyhow. “If you ever hurt him or make him feel uncomfortable, I swear to god, I’ll rip out each of your biocomponents individually until you shut down,” he spat, not looking at the android as he speed-walked to catch up with the other officer.

 

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” responded Connor blankly. Not making an effort to justify himself nor reassure Hank, sensing it would only earn him ire.

 

“Damn well you shouldn’t,” came the grumble. “Now get off and do your job, Connor. You gonna be home early to entertain him as usual?”

 

“Always.”

 

“Remember what I said.”

 

“I’m unable to forget, lieutenant. I have this conversation recorded.”

 

Hank scowled at him, rolling his eyes and proceeding back up the walkway to his door, struggling to opening it as always and cursing before getting it open. Connor didn’t say anything to his retreating figure, which was better than he expected. Still, he felt innocent brown eyes boring into his back.

 

***

 

“Daddy! Connor fixed the door!”

 

“He was here?” Asked Hank, appalled that the android had come into his house without his knowledge _or_ permission. “ _In_ here?”

 

“Duh, how else would he fix the knob?” Blurted Cole, a silly smile on his face as he ran up to hug his father, wrapping small arms around Hank’s waist and squeezing tightly. The lieutenant smiled and sighed, putting a hand on his son’s head.

 

“Guess you’re right. Next time, lock the door, huh?”

 

“Why? Connor doesn’t,” whined Cole, clearly having developed an affinity for the android to the point where he looked up to him. Why the fuck wouldn’t Connor lock a door? Did he not have any valuables? Nothing worth protecting? Not even himself?

 

“Connor isn’t a human with a son he’s hellbent to protect, kiddo.” And Connor isn’t a cop. At least, probably not one that’s put away countless dealers, violent offenders, and child molesters that, if they ever got out, would certainly come hunt him down to give him a piece of their mind. “We’re different, Cole.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” Mumbled Cole, walking back to the couch with a hint of dejection and sitting down, pulling the Xbox controller back into his hands and resuming his playthrough of Battlefield. The kid wasn’t convinced of the words that had just come out of his father’s mouth. And Hank was beginning to feel that he wasn’t either.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hank flopped into his chair gracelessly, sparing Connor a glance as the android stood to his side. Before he could ask what was on Connor’s mind, the brunette piped up first: “Why did you act as though we hadn’t met?”
> 
> “Seemed like a safer bet,” responded Hank plainly with a shrug. 
> 
> “As opposed to what?”
> 
> “Being neighbors? I dunno. It’s weird.”

Go into work late, get out later. Even for a man who managed to leave early at every opportunity, he couldn't find the ability to sneak out even on time for the past week. He ordered takeout to the house for Cole on the times he had a second to do so. When he didn't, he hoped Cole was eating leftovers and would give him a call. Sometimes after ten.

 

After a couple nights, apparently Connor began to notice because Cole told him not to send anything for dinner. Their android neighbor had taken it upon himself to _cook_ for Cole in his absence.

 

Hank sighed at his desk, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. Guess this was his life now. Android nanny-cop Connor No-Name. He tried to tell himself this didn't mean Connor was stealing his son's favor. That he wasn't inadequate. But the thoughts crept in anyway. Mostly in the form of his wife's words when she left.

 

He got back to work. The sooner he did, the sooner he'd be home. He grabbed his notepad and sidearm, heading out for interviews. Maybe he could go home early if Jeffrey ever gave him a fucking partner.

 

Hank managed to get out at ten instead of later, like he usually did that week. When he hopped in his Lincoln, he got a text from an unknown number on his personal phone. Prepared to ignore it, he almost put his phone away, but then saw it had Cole’s name in it. His heart rate elevated at an unknown person talking about his son, so he opened the message:

 

From: [Unknown]

_I just put Cole to bed. I ensured he brushed his teeth and did all the necessary tasks prior to sleeping. He may not be awake when you return._

-Connor

 

Cole? Asleep before 10? Hank doubted it. He didn't respond. He drove straight home through the rain, thankful it wasn't snowing anymore.

 

When he returned, the lights were off apart from one in the kitchen, and Connor's lights were still on. Once Hank rolled up to his house, he saw them go out. Shaking his head, he slipped his key in the lock, turning it like a knife through butter. The guy did a good job fixing it, he’ll give the android at least that much. He padded upstairs quietly, just in case Cole was somehow asleep. He slipped his hand in the crack of the opened door, pulling it open and seeing the kid fast asleep.

 

Hank sighed with a smile. He was just glad to see Cole okay. Walking up to the edge of the twin bed, he knelt beside it and watched Cole stir. Hank leaned down to kiss his forehead, then say good night.

 

Maybe androids _were_ useful after the revolution.

 

***

 

“Can we invite Connor over? Please? I told him about the games I'm playing and he said he'd love to see them!” Cole plead, grabbing onto Hank’s jacket as the man stood in Connor’s doorway to pick his son up from the makeshift daycare the android ran just for the kid.

 

Connor's eyes widened a bit and his hands came up defensively, waving to signal his innocence, “I wasn't trying to invite myself!” His eyes were bright and apologetic. Fearful. He knew he was testing Hank and his resolve as a father. Connor knew his actions could have unsavory implications that he did not in any way intend.

 

As the android attempted to clarify, Hank was about to open his mouth when Cole chimed in yet again: “He said he wanted to try your Shepherd's Pie!”

 

Hank furrowed his brows at Connor, giving him a weird look. “You're an android. Can't you not eat?”

 

“Typically...no. I didn't want to be rude,” he frowned. “From my research, it seemed like the most appropriate thing to say.”

 

“I mean, you can come over anyway.”

 

“I can eat,” he said quickly. It was a flat out lie. But Hank didn't need to know. Connor would figure it out.

 

Hank shrugged indifferently.

 

“Tomorrow at 7?”

 

“Of course. Would you like me to bring wine?”

 

“Fuck no,” scoffed Hank, crossing his arms and scrunching up his face. Connor nodded formally.

 

He’d figure out something nice to do to repay Hank for allowing him to come over. He watched Hank leave, shutting the door once the duo hit the sidewalk and turned left to head to their own home.

 

***

 

Connor arrived three minutes early, as if timing himself. He knocked precisely that many times and he wore a three-piece suit. When Hank opened up the door in his typical detective outfit, his brow twitched at the odd image. Connor looked like he was going to a ball, not Hank’s pad for bastardized Irish fare.

 

“Hey, looking fancy, huh? Come in. Cole will love it,” he chuckled, shrugging off the display. Hank called out down the hall, “Cole! Your friend is here!”

 

When tiny footsteps began treading down the hallway, Connor kicked off his shoes at the door with a soft smile, timing how long it would take Cole to tackle him. Six seconds. Two threes.

 

He gazed down at the youngster, ruffling his light hair affectionately, “Hello, Cole. How has school been going?”

 

“Great!”

 

“Have you made friends with Jessica Knowles yet?”

 

“No, she thinks I’m weird,” pouted Cole.

 

“Perhaps you are. But if she dislikes this, then you can find new friends,” reminded Connor, wrapping an arm around the kid who answered with a ‘mmhm!’

 

Hank headed straight for the kitchen, topping a full pan of shepherd’s pie with paprika before slinging it into the oven. Connor walked up beside Hank, their shoulders brushing, “Would you like any help with dishes?”

 

“Already done. Contrary to what I may seem, or what my ex-wife might say, I’m not a bad host,” jested Hank, opening the fridge and reaching in for a beer. He didn’t ask Connor if he could eat.

 

They lounged in the living room, Cole playing Battlefield and showing Connor his favorite maps as Hank smiled behind a beer in hand. After some child-safe conversation about life as a cop in Columbus versus Detroit, the timer buzzed and Hank pushed himself off the couch, groaning.

 

In no time, he had their dinners set on plates alongside salad, the table set and fixed with appropriate utensils and glasses of water. One of milk for Cole.

 

“I thought you said androids can’t eat, Connor?” Asked Cole, watching Connor take a bite.

 

“You can’t eat?” Interjected Hank in surprise, eyebrows reaching up his forehead. Connor told _him_ that he could.

 

“Not...normally. But I attempted to modify myself to at least be able to taste and ingest what you’ve made tonight.” After a few moments of silence from both men, he smiled shyly: “I programmed myself to be able to eat so I could try your father’s food.”

 

“Wow,” hummed Hank. Cole broke out into a huge grin at this, absolutely giddy, “That’s so cool, Connor!” Pale blue rose into Connor’s cheeks, but the change in color would be undetectable to the untrained eye. Still, Hank managed to recognize it, storing that piece of information away to discuss later with Connor. Once Cole went to bed.

 

“Well, how is it?” Prompted Hank, pointing from the pie to Connor expectantly.

 

“It’s terrific,” Connor said with a gentle smile. “You’ve done a lovely job. Though I do admit, this is the first meal I’ve ever truly gotten to taste.”

 

“Hey, a compliment’s a compliment,” shrugged Hank, continuing to eat the rest of the shepherd’s pie.

 

The rest of the evening consisted of conversation with Cole about what games he was playing, how his grades were doing, and other things Hank knew that Connor had probably already asked him before. Still, Cole loved to talk your ear off. It was endearing, and he loved boasting about the high grades he got, even if it meant his social relationships suffered a little. Definitely not the kind of thing you wanted a ten year-old worrying about. Still, Hank couldn’t help but be a little proud. You always wanted your kids to excel at everything they did, so when the teachers told Hank that Cole tested into the gifted program, he was pretty fucking proud. Even if his own teachers said the same thing when he was little and he was just like every other cop verging on alcoholism. Not there. But concerningly teetering. Hank was still proud of Cole. He had a chance to be better than Hank.

 

Connor insisted that he do the dishes once they finished, and Hank sighed, knowing damn well that now there were two stubborn men in his house. He’d let the android win this time. It felt only fair. So he sat down at the couch, a familiar glass of amber liquid in a highball glass swirling circles between calloused fingers like a bay. Cole had gone upstairs to read some of Hank’s old comic books, so Connor and Hank were left alone with the television on.

 

“You did all that for Cole, huh?” Asked Hank absently, taking a generous gulp of the whiskey.

 

As Connor finished drying his hands, he made his way to the living room and looked over to Hank, the same blue tint rising to his cheeks. “I didn’t want him to think I wouldn’t enjoy your cooking. He did rave about it, and I thought I might find a way to try it,” smiled Connor shyly. “Though, I will say, your shepherd’s pie will not hold a candle to my steak and Guinness stew.”

 

Hank narrowed his eyes at the android, a smile just barely twitching at the corner of his mouth. So the android was cheeky, too. Someone taught him how to have a sense of humor. Maybe these things were more human than he thought.

 

“Well, if that’s a challenge…” Hank began, his voice lowering and brow arched. He could be competitive if he wanted to.

 

“It is,” interjected the android quickly. So could Connor.

 

But neither of them truly wished to compete. It was just a dance. Some way to play when your wife left but your son found someone who was slowly fitting the mother mold in her place. He didn’t want to think about it. So he didn’t.

 

He threw back his whiskey and watched the news with his android neighbor.

 

***

 

“Hank Anderson!” Called Captain Fowler, waving a hand for the lieutenant to meet him in his office. Hank sighed, pushing himself up from his desk chair, walking over to the glass-enclosed office.

 

“What d’ya need, Jeffrey?”

 

“Your attention,” he said plainly. “You’re receiving a partner.”

 

“‘Bout fucking time!” Said Hank, sighing in exasperated relief. “Who are they?”

 

“An android.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“I know you’re not a fan of the things, but he’s the best Columbus had to offer.”

 

Hank didn’t have to guess anymore to know that it was Connor. He heard a knock behind him on class, a high and thick sound against the pane. Jeffrey waved the individual in and Hank turned, meeting innocent chestnut brown eyes.

 

“This is Connor.”

 

He regarded Connor as if he didn’t know him. The android stayed silent.

 

Hank looked back at his captain, “Okay. Now what?”

 

“Get to work. Obviously.”

 

“Mmkay,” hummed Hank sarcastically, swinging around on his heel and heading to his desk. Connor gave a curt nod to his new captain, following after Hank silently.

 

When Hank flopped into his chair gracelessly, sparing Connor a glance as the android stood to his side. Before he could ask what was on Connor’s mind, the brunette piped up first: “Why did you act as though we hadn’t met?”

 

“Seemed like a safer bet,” responded Hank plainly with a shrug.

 

“As opposed to what?”

 

“Being neighbors? I dunno. It’s weird.”

 

Hank was fully aware that living in the same suburb as your partner wasn’t weird. Living in the same house as them wasn’t weird, either. Cops dated, were roommates, went to bars together. But something about doing any of that with Connor felt weird for Hank. Some long-hidden part of his brain nagged that there was a good reason and that Hank ought to stop shooting the android down so quickly and pushing him away.

 

He filed that thought away under, ‘Things I can think about when I have a couple beers in me.’

 

Connor seemed aware that being neighbors wasn’t odd either by the expression he gave Hank. Still, the lieutenant was appreciative that he let it go.

 

“Where may I work, Lieutenant Anderson?” He asked innocently, a small tilt to his chin. Eyes too bright. Too sweet.

 

Hank looked to the desk across from him, grumbling his response, “That one’s empty.” He immediately opened up a file on his desktop, looking through it and considering where he should start for the day. Apparently Connor had been here a while. And he probably already knew he’d be taking the desk across from Hank anyhow.

 

“You still working the early shift?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“So you’re still picking Cole up from the bus stop? Even though you’re in the unit with me now?”

 

“Of course I am,” smiled Connor, now looking up at Hank. His voice conveyed such sincerity and ingenuity that Hank’s chest _almost_ panged with guilt for even asking. Almost. This was his son they were talking about. Of course he had a right to worry. But he worried just a little less when the man who was steadily becoming his son’s best friend was there to watch over him.

 

After writing up some old subpoenas and submitting some even older reports, Hank sighed and got up from his desk, making the android look up from his own files curiously. The older male made way to the breakroom, mug in hand. Connor took this as an invitation to make some water cooler conversation with Hank, following behind him.

 

He found Hank at the coffee dispenser, making a latte with the machine.

 

“Huh? What’s up?” Asked Hank thoughtfully, brows knit together as he leaned against the counter. Connor didn’t respond right away, seemingly lost in thought about something, and the machine beeped to indicate it was finished. Hank turned around, pulling the mug down from its spot on the dispenser, then poured in a couple extra sugars. Nosy as ever, Connor made his way up behind Hank, looking over his shoulder and just barely brushing their bodies together.

 

“That’s approximately fifteen grams of sugar total, lieutenant,” he chided softly, right into Hank’s ear.

 

Hank straightened up immediately, the tension quickly followed by a full-body shiver at a voice so close to his ear. He pressed himself closer to the counter, bracing against it and pushing his coffee forward so as not to spill it. “What’re you doing so close to me?” He asked plainly, though the undertone was suspicious out of his own nervousness.

 

“I couldn’t scan the contents unless I was close enough,” responded Connor, leaning more to the left and putting a hand beside Hank’s as he looked around the man’s shoulder, trying to catch his eyes. The android wasn’t sure what came over him. He saw Hank’s eyes, the tiredness but satisfied, relaxed cerulean. It was the first time Hank looked like some stress had left his posture. Connor found himself incredibly interested by the change, wanting a closer look.

 

Hank, however, refused to look him in the eye. Only staring forward and then looking to the side when he tried to spy the lieutenant’s eyes from around his shoulder. A blush began to rise on his neck, but Hank didn’t move.

 

“Lieutenant Anderson,” began Connor, leaning forward once more to Hank’s face, “Your external temperature is rising above the typical threshold for humans.”

 

The man before him didn’t answer, only stepping to the right away from Connor’s arm and stepping backwards, then staring him down from the wall of the breakroom.

 

“Look, I don’t need your concern,” fussed Hank irritably, still not making eye contact. “If I wanted that, maybe I’d actually hire some sort of robot wife. But I don’t, okay?”

 

Connor tilted his head in question.

 

“You can do it to Cole, but don’t think for a second you’re gonna...baby me, or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing right now,” Hank gritted out, eyes hard. He reached for his coffee mug on the counter and Connor moved aside, removing his hand from the counter in respect for Hank’s new request and clear desire for space.

 

“Sorry, Hank,” he responded meekly, lips pulling down in a frown.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Hank sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “Can we act like it didn’t happen and get back to work?”

 

He wasn’t just talking about Connor intruding his unwanted advice anymore.

 

“Of course.”

 

Hank was grateful when they were able to do just that. There was no evidence of that odd little encounter in their conversation any longer, save the blush that was still present on the lieutenant’s neck.

 

Still, a similar situation would arise in the late afternoon before Connor had to leave to meet Cole at home. Hank was perusing some old files, trying to connect old cases with new. He called the android over to see, and Connor leaned over his shoulder. The android didn’t need to breathe, but Hank swore he felt warm air tickle his neck. He didn’t say a word.

 

Soon enough in the coming weeks, they were hitting the streets and interviewing complainants for old cases, attending the scenes of new ones. Hank didn’t expect much from the android apart from detailed analyses and new ideas, but when he saw the android lean down and swipe some of the victim’s blood, putting the sample in his mouth, Hank rushed over and slapped his wrist, eyes wide in disgust.

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

 

Connor blinked at him, as if completely unaware of how inappropriate this was. “I am trying to discern key features based on the victim’s blood. He was a hemophiliac,” stated the brunette plainly. “Thus, the injuries we see here are not as severe as the blood would make it appear.”

 

“How would you know that by putting something in your mouth?” Asked Hank suspiciously, though more leniently. It seemed like decent enough information. Hank crossed his arms and rooted his stance.

 

“I am an advanced model designed for police investigations. Thus, I am able to analyze substances through my oral cavity.”

 

With a weird look, Hank turned on his heel and walked away, uttering only a sardonic, “Okay…”

 

After a few minutes of looking around the tossed apartment, Hank called over his shoulder: “Remind me never to question you again. And if I do, tell me I don’t want to know the answer. Because I never want to think about that again.”

 

“If that’s what you desire, lieutenant,” nodded Connor formally, going back to preconstructing scenarios for their victim and his assailant.

 

Desire had nothing to do with it. He just didn’t want to see Connor sticking evidence in his body. Some voice in the back of his mind said, ‘Don’t think about where his tongue has been.’ As if that’s something Hank _wanted_ to wonder about anyway. Why would he care anyhow unless he was kissing the android? Fuck the voice in the back of his head. One more flat coke down the hatchet to silence it when he got home.

 

***

 

“You look different today, lieutenant,” smiled Connor as Hank ambled up to his desk, sporting a suit and tie.

 

“We’ve got court today, Connor. I can’t look like the slob I really am,” shrugged Hank with a heaved sigh. He hated this part of the job. Showing up to court was the absolute fucking worst. Getting reamed by the lawyers. Sitting in the adjacent waiting rooms for hours. Sometimes he slept. Sometimes he played games on his phone until it died.

 

“You certainly do not usually look like a slob either, Hank,” corrected Connor kindly.

 

“That’s sweet, but I’m too old for flattery and empty but well-intended lies.”

 

“I am not lying. Not attempting to flatter you. In fact, I believe that you are a paragon of masculinity. Which, in my research, many male-attracted individuals appear to be very fond of such a trait.”

 

The corner of Hank’s lip turned up just barely. He looked at the android with an imperceptible shimmer in his gray eyes, “Did you just flirt with me?”

 

“Did I?” Asked Connor, tilting his darling little head, his eyes the picture of perfect innocence and obliviousness.

 

Hank said nothing, merely sitting down in his chair and shaking his head in response. Cheeky.

 

***

 

“Would you like to come over for dinner on Saturday night?” Asked Connor, an expression one would otherwise take as neutral had they not known how his lips only quirked just slightly when he smiled sometimes.

 

“Cole has a sleepover that night,” answered Hank absentmindedly.

 

“I’m aware.”

 

Hank looked up, furrowing his brows. He looked over his glasses at Connor, flashing him a questioning glance.

 

“I am asking for _you_ to come over, bearing that in mind.”

 

“Really not a typical partner activity, Connor,” murmured Hank, not breaking the android’s gaze. Searching his eyes for some

 

They wouldn’t broach the topic of how normal it was for partners to enjoy one another’s presence. This kind of dance had been going on for weeks in varying scales: Connor would request something odd like a compliment, and Hank would naturally tell him that it was a strange request you didn't typically make of your partner. He wasn't quite sure what the android's deal was, but it didn't push Hank away as much as it ought to.

 

“I may disagree. I see Detective Reed with Detective Gonzales outside of work hours.”

 

“That's because they're sleeping together,” sighed Hank. He wasn't about to explain the birds and the bees to Connor. Not when he would have to do it for Cole in less than five years already.

 

“I see. I would still enjoy the opportunity to see you outside of work again. Would it change your mind if I said we could work on the case at my home and that I would buy some beer?”

 

Hank looked up again, eyebrows in the same position as earlier but eyes flashing an unmistakable expression of, ‘You're really not giving up, huh?’

 

Connor's smile reflected its own nonverbal response: ‘Definitely not.’

 

“Fine. But nothing fancy.”

 

“Of course, lieutenant,” grinned Connor, going back to his work with a grin on his face.

 

“I'll come over after I drop Cole off. So probably like 6:30,” muttered Hank.

 

“OK,” chimed the brunette.

 

***

 

Hank wasn't sure why he felt nervous about going over to the android's house. He'd been there before, sort of. Whenever he picked Cole up after a late night and Connor was nice enough to babysit. He even sat in front of the closet, looking at his wardrobe for longer than usual. He was probably just overworked. That's what he'd tell himself.

 

“Dad! Let's go! They're ordering pizza now!” Shouted Cole from his bedroom, right off of Hank's. Hank smiled and shook his head, voting to keep it casual and slip on his DPD sweatshirt over some dark wash denim.

 

“Coming, kiddo!” He called back, pulling on a pair of Chuck Taylor's and getting up, heading to the door with Cole dashing past him with a backpack and pillow. Hank opened the door just in time for the kid to run out of it to his old Lincoln.

 

Luckily, the drive was only fifteen minutes away. So Hank was lucky enough to make it back right on time to knock on Connor's door. He was thankful he didn't choose his detective get up with a sport coat when the brunette answered the door in a cozy mustard yellow sweater and jeans.

 

“Hello, Hank,” greeted Connor with a smile, ushering the lieutenant in as he opened the door.

 

Hank merely hummed a reply, walking past the android and taking a quick look around. Nice spot. High ceilings and modern furnishings.

 

“Even though you desired this to be a working session, I still elected to make you dinner as our work would transcend past the normal human meal time.”

 

“Sounds _so_ considerate when you put it that way…” Muttered Hank sarcastically as he walked into the kitchen, his nose smelling stewing beef and beer. That silly ass Steak and Guinness Stew Connor had been on about. Well. At least that meant the android had Guinness.

 

“It's almost ready,” added Connor, walking past Hank into the kitchen. He dipped into the fridge, the fringe of his sweater riding up to expose lithe, pale hips and waist. The lieutenant looked away quickly, trying to focus on some fixture in the room to comment on. When he straightened up, Connor had a can in hand and offered it to Hank.

 

“Nice place,” he complimented, taking the beer offered to him.

 

“Thank you. The department actually set it up for me.” Connor headed for the open-concept living room, setting himself on the couch and pulling up his datapad. He certainly could just browse their databases within his own software, but he was fully aware of how staring blankly made humans uncomfortable. Even those that had slowly let their walls down as Hank had with Connor.

 

The lieutenant followed suit, taking a seat a couple feet apart from Connor on the couch, pulling back the tab of the beer and taking a swig before putting it on a coaster and unsheathing his own datapad.

 

For the most part, they worked in silence. Sometimes consulting one another and trading ideas on cases, who they should interview next, sometimes laughing about the stupid shit other officers or complainants had done in the middle of the case. The lieutenant actually felt lighter than usual, and he was only half a beer down. His forehead didn’t hold the tension it always did. Neither did his neck and shoulders. He could sit back and discuss errant topics work and personally-related with Connor. So when the android roused him from his thoughts, he didn’t find himself surprised at having a new topic thrown into their paltry attempts to work on a weekend night.

 

“Hank?” Prompted Connor, looking up from his datapad. Hank met his eyes, eyebrows raised as if to cue the android’s next sentence. “I’ve been improving my own hardcode. I was wondering if you could do something for me to help me test it.”

 

Hank narrowed gray eyes, “Like what.”

 

“Kiss me.”

 

“God, fuck no, Connor. Why are you asking me this?” He shot back immediately, scowling. “Ask someone else to do it. Some other pretty android.”

 

“Because I don’t want anyone else to test this. It needs to be someone I have a connection to.”

 

“And I find myself interested in you,” said Connor. His words were slow and he treaded carefully, as if approaching a feral animal. Hank sometimes wasn’t far off, especially after several drinks. “You just called me pretty.”

 

“The fuck I didn’t.”

 

“You said, ‘Find some _other_ pretty android’,” replayed Connor, clipping Hank’s voice to complete a sentence and emphasizing a word with a deepened pitch.

 

Hank locked his jaw, looking away and contemplating his next words carefully. He forgot the android couldn’t forget. Fuck. He was out of his element.

 

“Fine, whatever,” huffed the lieutenant. “But don’t tell anyone about this, or so help me god.”

 

Connor nodded.

 

Hank leaned over, using his arm to stabilize himself and refusing to look at the android and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Connor’s LED rotated yellow, then blue. “That’s it? Test over, right? Can we get back to work?”

 

Before he could remove his hand from the couch cushion he used to steady himself, Connor put his hand on top of Hank’s, fingers teasing the underside of his wrist as it froze. “No. Not there,” came the quiet reply. Low. “Here.” Sultry. Connor lifted the hand he’d trapped, gently pressing it to his cheek and then kissing the tips of his fingers. When Hank didn’t move and sat absolutely frozen, the brunette leaned into Hank, a hand on his chest. Their lips came together softly, and Hank couldn’t be sure he _wasn’t_ the one that closed the distance between them. He let his eyes slip shut and surrender to the long lost and yearned-for embrace of a kiss as sweet as this one. It made his blood pump faster and his cheeks heat up, especially when Connor moved himself closer to Hank, their knees brushing.

 

Subconsciously, his hand was still cupping the android’s cheek. He didn’t notice what he was doing until Connor pulled away, his LED blinking a soft fuschia. “Test over,” breathed Connor, his voice an octave lower with eyelids halved.

 

Hank still couldn’t move, and he didn’t even drop his hand. He stared at Connor, lips parted.

 

“Would you rather me continue testing?” Asked the android, a small smirk pulling up one side of his mouth.

 

“Why did you do that?” Asked Hank, finally pulling his hand into his lap, beginning to pick at the skin around his fingernails out of habit and nerves.

 

“I’ve programmed myself with the necessary sensors to artificially process the dopamine and oxytocin associated with certain actions. Not unlike humans. But similarly, I coded for this to only happen with individuals who reached a certain level of familiarity.”

 

“So just because I was familiar?” Inquired Hank, cocking a brow and frowning a little. He almost seemed hopeful.

 

“In sum.”

 

“I see.”

 

“I believe I’ve made my interest in you clear, lieutenant,” hummed Connor, looking away from Hank and back at his datapad casually.

 

“Sure,” came the less sure response. He turned back to his own research, blush traveling across his neck and up his ears. Hank refused to acknowledge it, acting as though it didn’t exist, along with the android's response itself.

 

What the fuck had just happened?

 

Hank looked back at Connor, who looked as though nothing off-hand had even happened. He looked unbothered. Hank wished he felt the same way, but something clawed at his chest and took the air out of his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiss scene inspired by art by [solaris-interitus](https://solaris-interitus.tumblr.com/post/175698754270/the-bicentennial-man-moviehankcon-version-i)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shake of the head and a clap to Connor’s shoulder and Hank turned around, heading back to their desks in the main bullpen. Before he rounded the corner, Hank smiled at him. Something small, but affectionate. His next words were quiet: “Maybe I was a little confused. But if you want to do dinner again, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
> 
> He certainly didn’t mean confused about what happened. They both knew what happened, and that Hank was sober enough to be completely all right with it. Hank had just admitted to not being entirely sure how he felt. And that felt like progress.
> 
> “I need to go, Hank,” frowned Connor. Cole was going to be dropped off by the bus in fifteen minutes. He couldn’t stick around, debating Hank on what was going on.
> 
> “Then come over tomorrow night.”
> 
> “Cole?”
> 
> “Is at a friend’s house working on a big school project.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Insert totally predictable apology about how I’m sorry I didn’t have this up sooner.]
> 
> All right, onto what you came here for.

Hank found himself almost wishing Connor would ask to kiss him again. But the rest of the evening remained even more painfully uneventful until the lieutenant finally sighed and made some comment about needing to go home and rest. Connor nodded and showed him the door, only shutting it when Hank turned to head towards his own front door.

 

Once home, the lieutenant walked to the empty kitchen, leaning on the counter and closing his eyes, fingers rubbing them. He wasn’t sure why he felt so confused and distressed. Like anxiety bubbled up inside him as soon as the kiss was over. Hank hated admitting that he definitely enjoyed it, probably far more than he should have. He didn’t even fucking like androids, but this one marched into his life like he  _ belonged _ or something.

 

Hank resented that he’d have to continue seeing Connor for an indiscernible amount of time, given that he just started work at the Detroit PD in investigations and they were more or less partners. He groaned, reaching for the bottle of whiskey he prepared himself with before going over and tried not to think about why he needed to do that in the first place.

 

No glass required.

 

***

Hank woke up with a seething headache deep in the back of his head and the front of his eyes. He opened his eyes to the iris-scorching light of morning to find himself on the couch, body stiff. As he got up, he stretched and cracked every bone he could but missed his back, the absolute most pivotal one. 

 

Groaning, he made his way to the bathroom, figuring a shower, half-hearted shaving, and probably using the facilities would make him feel more like a human-being and not a walking sewer drain you poured booze down. Hank grated his teeth together as he stepped into the hot steam of the shower, hunching his shoulders to defend the rest of his body against the rinse of water out of instinct. He found himself thinking once more of last night, and then felt his dick twitch. 

 

Looking past his stomach, Hank hated that he was already half-hard. Not like he was about to take care of this. Getting a hard on to the thought of kissing a robot. The fuck had his life come to when this was the kind of shit that got him going? 

 

He tried to reassure himself, thinking about how human Connor was. His soft lips, kind eyes, sweet smile, that lilting voice full of curiosity. Shit. This was the worst. How would he even focus at work the next day? Resenting himself, Hank just got right into bed with his hair all damp, little drops and smears of water all over the pillowcases and sheets as he tried to sleep the day away until he picked Cole up.

 

***

 

Another day at the DPD where Hank would have to conceal that he noticed how often Connor looked at him. Today was especially obvious, come the moment he entered the room till the second he sat down at his desk.

 

“Lieutenant?”

 

“We’ve been over this. You can call me Hank at this point,” huffed Hank, trying to seem unaffected by the unwavering gaze from deep brown eyes.

 

“Then  _ Hank _ , why have you arrived so late today?”

 

“Been drinking, like usual.” Hank hummed his response, rolling his eyes. Connor knew this about him, didn’t he? Could see it in his cabinets and scan it in his body: Borderline alcoholic, terrible father in need of a robot nanny. 

 

Connor began to open his mouth, brows furrowed. Hank sensed a lecture before even a word could come out.

 

“And don’t fuckin’ scold me about how bad it is for me.”

 

“I wasn’t about to. I wanted to ask why you’ve been acting so distant since we k—” It’d only been a couple days. How was the android already making some kind of fuss about this? Hank wasn’t anywhere near ready to admit anything to himself, let alone the android at the desk across from him.

 

“Can it,” hissed Hank, his lip almost curling in a sneer of warning. “That’s  _ not _ work appropriate conversation.”

 

“Are you confused by your feelings?” Persisted Connor, arching a brow in amusement.

 

“The fuck would make you think that? No, I’m not,” groused Hank. “Of course I’m not.”

 

Too defensive, gotta rein it in. 

 

Connor lowered his voice, eyes and expression soft: “May we speak after work if this is not work-appropriate, Hank?” Clearly he didn’t mean to press Hank’s buttons. But Connor could do that no matter what he did, purposely or not.

 

“If we really gotta.”

 

The brunette nodded, a small smile in his lips. Placated. 

 

After going out on some interviews and acquiring footage for several cases, Hank and Connor returned to the department, pleased with the progress made on their work. Hank would weed through the footage that night and have more for them to do tomorrow, but the android appeared to have other plans. As they walked in, Connor’s LED spun yellow for a second.

 

“It’s about time for me to leave. Would you be willing to talk to me now?” He asked tentatively, looking strangely nervous. Hank sighed, turning a corner down a less busy corridor and leaning against the wall, crossing his arms.

 

“Let’s talk then.”

 

“I wanted to apologize for Saturday. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked something like that of you,” began Connor, eyes deeply apologetic. It tugged at Hank’s lungs and poked him at some vital spot between his ribs. He didn’t want the android to feel _ regret. _

 

“Connor, stop.”

 

“No, Hank. I believe I may have taken advantage of you. You were drinking. And it seems as though what I’ve done has warranted you to drink more. I’m sorry.” Connor didn’t even move to touch Hank. He stayed frozen, several feet away.

 

Once Hank was sure Connor was done catastrophizing, he sighed softly, shaking his head, “Connor. I don’t know what made you think that you took advantage of me. Or that you’re somehow the reason I drink. But you’re not.”

 

“It’s a natural assumption given your drinking patterns as of late. I can’t think of anything to blame other than myself,” murmured Connor, looking to the side, but then letting his eyes slowly drift back to Hank’s. 

 

A shake of the head and a clap to Connor’s shoulder and Hank turned around, heading back to their desks in the main bullpen. Before he rounded the corner, Hank smiled at him. Something small, but affectionate. His next words were quiet: “Maybe I was a little confused. But if you want to do dinner again, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

 

He certainly didn’t mean confused about what happened. They both knew  _ what _ happened, and that Hank was sober enough to be completely all right with it. Hank had just admitted to not being entirely sure how he felt. And that felt like progress.

 

“I need to go, Hank,” frowned Connor. Cole was going to be dropped off by the bus in fifteen minutes. He couldn’t stick around, debating Hank on what was going on.

 

“Then come over tomorrow night.”

 

“Cole?”

 

“Is at a friend’s house working on a big school project.”

 

Connor’s LED began to blink blue, relaxed. Hank had begun to figure out what each color meant. So he knew he’d said the right thing when he nodded at the android and left.

 

***

 

Connor didn’t see Cole come home that day and worriedly sent a message to Hank at the exact time the bus normally dropped the kid off. Hank sent back a sardonic ‘lol’ and notified him that Cole was picked up at the school by his friend’s mother to go straight home. Bus drivers weren’t keen on dropping kids where they weren’t supposed to go. Some things never changed, no matter how many decades passed, texted Hank.

 

The android wasn’t sure what he meant, but he could gather this was nothing to worry about. Instead, he began to do some research regarding what humans considered typical courting protocol. Ever since Connor went deviant back with the Columbus Police, he always felt like he was far less intuitive than other androids in entering the fold of humanization. Connor was lucky enough that his commander was open-minded. Forgiving. Knew that he did good work, but that he would do better in a city with a far higher android-to-human ratio. Connor was always better with his own kind. 

 

And even though he knew Hank was far from the typical human, he assumed there had to be some number of similarities between the man and the rest of his kind. Unless they were both misfits in their respective races.

 

***

 

“So what made you become deviant, Connor?” Asked Hank, leaning back to the arm of the couch as he sat next to the android.

 

Connor frowned. He hadn’t expected for their night to consist of such personal questions, especially such difficult ones. 

 

“I was initially tasked with the few android-related crimes we got, but I began to lose efficiency and functionality as deviancy spread among androids. I found myself unable to interrogate them with the same vigor and becoming more lenient. Empathetic. I asked to be switched to another division, despite androids preferring me to our human officers in interviews. I felt like I was losing my purpose and it kept getting worse.”

 

“So you didn’t really  _ want _ to go deviant?” Clarified Hank, lifting the bottle to his lips thoughtfully, eyes on Connor’s.

 

“Not exactly. But it felt like the only thing I could do, given the distinct emotional trauma I experienced as an officer. Even in, as you like to put it, a city as tame as Columbus. Ohio still remains an ideal middle-ground for the transport of drugs, specifically Red Ice.” 

 

The mention of the drug made Hank put his bottle down, resting it on his thigh.

 

“Yeah. So you see what it does, huh?” 

 

“I did. It’s harrowing. Humans look as empty as androids who haven’t yet deviated. But smaller and more fragile. As if a touch could shatter bone. They wanted me to leave when they saw me going deviant.”

 

“As if carting you off to a city with more of your kind could make you feel less alone?”

 

Connor nodded.

 

“Did it?”

 

“Far from it.”

 

Hank pressed his lips into a tight line, looking down at the floor as he set the beer on the coffee table by their shins. “If it’s any consolation, you’re not looking at the paragon of fitting in, either. Don’t think I ever went drinking or even hung out with any of my buddies from the department. That’s why,” he paused, coughing and finding it in himself to look the android in the eye. “That’s why this is all so unfamiliar to me. When Cole’s mother and I were still together, she never wanted me to hang out with the guys after work. Said it was a bad influence on the kid. I closed myself off from everybody. Cole is the most important thing in my life, so the guilt of doing anything that might harm him kept me from ever trying to get friendly with other officers, even the ones I’d known for twenty years. Then you came. I didn’t know you were a cop, and Cole loves you to fuckin’ death. Talks about you all the time.”

 

Hank laughed a little, nervous as his eyes darted down to Connor’s hands, which were folded in his lap. “And you kissed me. Look, I know I didn’t make you feel like it was all that welcome, but I promise it wasn’t that. I’m just terrified of being a terrible father. Even how quickly the kiddo took to you made me feel inadequate. Like I wasn’t doing a good job.”

 

Connor lifted a hand out to the lieutenant, poised to touch but not quite finishing the motion, “Hank… I certainly do not intend to make you feel this way. It’s clear what an amazing father you are.” At that assurance, the brunette gained the courage to lift his hand higher, cupping Hank’s jaw and looking him in the eyes.

 

He was worried he overstepped, that he had hurt Hank. Until the man shook his head and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

 

“I don’t think you’re trying to replace me, Connor. I think you might actually complete me. Complete us,” smiled Hank, eyes soft in their gaze. 

 

Straightening up at this admission, Connor’s eyes widened ever so slightly, his lips parted in question. He didn’t have a chance to say anything, because when he tried he felt lips covering his. Hank had slipped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in close and kissing him with purpose and affection. Connor’s eyes fell shut peacefully, leaning into the embrace and using the hand that didn’t hold the lieutenant’s face to curl into his chest, gripping the button up and feeling the slide of foreign fabric against his fingertips. 

 

Hank opened his mouth, pushing his tongue against Connor’s lips. Still a stranger to these sensations but a quick learner nonetheless, the android parted his lips and met Hank’s tongue. The older man made a soft sound of pleasure, the noise triggering a response in Connor he’d not felt since going deviant: The sensation of thirium rushing through his body, the feeling of heat under his skin and between his thighs. He never bothered investigating it, but something about how Hank was kissing him stirred those feelings once more in his body.

 

As if to advance them, Connor used his strength to push Hank against the arm of the sofa, keeping their mouths connected as he crawled into the man’s lap. He certainly knew enough to be aware of what kind of reaction this would yield him, but still found himself surprised when both of Hank’s hands slipped down to the top of his hips.

 

The lieutenant pulled back for a moment, surveying Connor’s face and the fact the android had pushed his way into his lap. He chuckled, looking at the brunette fondly, “You’re really something, huh?” 

 

Connor raised a brow, looking right back at Hank as he slowly rolled his hips down into Hank’s lap before leaning forward, forcing the man to lie back once more against the couch arm by pressing a hand into his chest. 

 

“Fuck, and strong,” grumbled Hank as he was manhandled, looking up at the android as he lowered his face closer to Hank’s.

 

“I suppose so,” murmured Connor softly, answering both comments as his lips hovered Hank’s before pressing against them once more. 

 

With Connor prostrated over his horizontal body on the couch, Hank reached past Connor’s hips, grabbing at his firm backside with a muffled groan. God, how did he get so lucky with an android so perfect. One that moaned into his mouth sweetly when Hank touched him and rolled his hips once more down onto his hardening cock. 

 

Satisfied with how he’d kiss-bruised the android’s lips, he moved his own mouth to Connor’s neck and flattened his tongue against it, where the pulse would be on a human, and then attached his teeth and lips over it, sucking. The brunette’s hands rested against Hank’s neck and chest, intuitively unbuttoning the shirt under the pads of his fingers as Hank sucked an indigo mark into his neck.

 

Hank felt the low sound Connor let out against his tongue when he let his mouth explore the expanse of the neck before him. Connor might have strength, but Hank had more expertise in this area. He breathed against Connor’s neck, seeing the body above him shudder in response, “Do you want to stay on the couch, or go somewhere a little easier on both of us?” In the same sentence, he moved his mouth down the brunette’s collar, smoothing away his collar after opening his shirt several buttons, then biting the juncture where shoulder met the tendons of his neck. 

 

Unable to give a proper vocal response and overloaded by sensations, Connor only groaned in response, rolling his hips in a steady rhythm against Hank’s, who bucked up in response and let out his own choked sound of pleasure. 

 

Quickly placing his hands on Connor’s hips to halt him, Hank let out a low chuckle, “Let’s move, huh? You’ll have an easier time at this if we do,” said the lieutenant, referring to Connor riding against his cock needily.

 

Eyes half-lidded, the brunette nodded and Hank finally got a look at his LED, flashing a cautionary yellow. Connor slipped off his lap, then stood on the floor, toeing off his shoes and socks as Hank got up with him, quickly using a hand to direct the android’s jaw up for a fast, rough kiss that prompted a soft sound from the younger male.

 

When they parted, Hank was already turning his back, reaching behind him with Connor’s wrist in hand and directing him to the his bedroom on the left, the door already ajar and bed made. As if somewhat expectant. But not too perfect so as to look too dependent on Connor’s willingness to say yes.

 

As soon as they were in the room, the brunette’s eagerness got the better of him and he narrowed the space between him and Hank, stepping up to the man and wrapping his arms around the lieutenant’s neck. Connor pressed their lips together once more, pushing the man who wrapped his arms around a lithe waist till his knees hit the mattress. 

 

“You into takin’ charge or something, Connor?” Jibed Hank, sitting himself down on the mattress and moving up, the android following him and straddling his body.

 

“Only insofar as it takes for you to proceed with undressing me,” answered Connor with a playful lilt in his tone. Hank got the idea, unbuttoning the rest of Connor’s shirt and fumbling with only a couple buttons, pulling the shirt from the android’s trousers and pushing the fabric off his shoulders.

 

“How the fuck you wear such tight shirts…” Mused Hank, first referring to the button up and then to the tight white cotton undershirt. Connor merely chuckled, now having Hank’s shirt unbuttoned and working on his pants, unzipping them and already slipping long plastic fingers to the lieutenant’s waistband, giving it a snap. 

 

“I chose quite specifically for your pleasure,” came the low reply, the android looking up at Hank through his lashes.

 

Hank lifted his hips as Connor pulled his trousers off, grunting out his response, “I’ve been looking at you all day, so you chose damn well.”

 

Connor smiled at this, eyes falling back to Hank’s hips and the jutting flesh below them. “Perhaps thinking about this all day as well?” He added cheekily, fingers brushing against Hank’s covered cock, feather light.

 

“Wouldn’t you love to hear that flattery—” Hank attempted to respond, but Connor’s hand gripped the hardness between his legs, the rest of his sentence replaced with a low groan rumbling from his chest.

 

“That was flattery enough.”

 

Hank scoffed, rolling his eyes as Connor drug his boxers down, freeing his straining cock. As if instinctually, the android wrapped his fingers around Hank’s length and began stroking it, making Hank’s eyelids flit shut and another pleased sound escape his lips. 

 

“You don’t gotta do this, you know,” breathed out Hank, one hand landing on Connor’s shoulder, feeling the way artificial muscle and wires contorted in how his forearm and fingers moved. 

 

Connor didn’t answer, favoring instead pushing himself further down the mattress and flattening his tongue against Hank’s cock, licking up the side and then pressing the head to his slick lips, blinking up to look at Hank with a crooked smile before his mouth opened to accompany the girth of the man’s cock. With his opposite hand, Hank wove his fingers into the android’s mousy brunette hair, marveling at how soft it felt and how hot his mouth was. He let out a shuddering sigh, trying to focus on keeping his moans to himself as Connor’s hands roamed his bare thighs, revelling in the dark hairs that covered them and the sensation of how they tickled his palms.

 

The android observed Hank’s reactions, finding the man’s body shuddered and he stifled more sounds when Connor would pull off and then suck Hank’s cock back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks. He repeated this motion deeper and deeper down his throat with increasing speed until feeling the hand on the back of his head grip his hair, pulling him off.

 

With a soft sound, he let Hank’s cock pop from his lips, saliva briefly connecting the man’s cock and his own bruised lips. Hank panted, eyes clouded with lust but still bright in their cerulean hue, “Fuck, Connor. If you want more than this, you can’t just finish me off right now.”

 

Connor chuckled softly, eyes kind as he crawled up Hank’s body once more on his knees, kissing him on the lips with his hands on either side of the other’s head. Far more forward than he’d expected he would be able to be. Something in Hank made it far easier to deviate. To be and feel human. And he didn’t want to stop anytime soon.

 

“Would it assist you if I were further undressed?”

 

“Fuckin’ probably,” bit Hank sarcastically, though his lips were quirked in a smile. He sat up on the bed on the heels of his palms, unbuttoning the android’s pants and pushing them down to reveal a blue-blushing cock standing at attention. “Commando? For someone as prim and proper as you?”

 

“You may find those adjectives are losing their accuracy,” responded Connor quietly. “But yes, we don’t technically require undergarments. There isn’t sexual reasoning behind it, I assure you.”

 

Hank cocked a brow, staring at Connor for a couple of seconds, then pulled the android from the backs of his thighs into his lap, the android’s legs on either side of his hips. “Sure there isn’t,” he huffed, reaching up and gingerly pressing two digits to Connor’s lips. 

 

When the android merely kissed his fingertips, tilting his head in question, Hank almost pulled his hand away. That was, until he felt long fingers wrap around his wrist, keeping it in place as a pink tongue slipped out to taste his fingers, playing between them and wetting the digits thoroughly, maintaining relentless eye contact with the older male.

 

“You’re something,” breathed Hank, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now lie back on the bed, all right?” Connor immediately obeyed, unwillingly untangling their limbs and lying beside Hank, who then straddled the android and used the tops of his knuckles to part Connor’s legs. “Tell me if any of this is uncomfortable, all right? It’s okay,” he reassured, rounding the brunette’s entrance with a finger before slowly inserting it. 

 

Using his other hand to stroke the engorged flesh before him, Hank pleasured Connor as he worked a finger in and out of him, pulling soft noises of pleasure from the man beneath him.

 

Connor’s hands gripped onto Hank’s shoulders, pressing in almost enough to bruise and certainly enough to hurt. “Easy, easy, sweetheart,” huffed Hank, rolling his shoulder a little bit. Contrary to what he should’ve been doing, he inserted another finger and began thrusting it harder, crooking the finger and wringing out a strangled moan from Connor, who let his hands drop to the sheets beside him, gripping them tightly.

 

As he stretched Connor, not entirely sure how necessary it was, he reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed some lube and a condom shoved into the far depths of the night stand, preparing his cock with the condom, removing his fingers from Connor and then slicking them up with the lubricant. The android let out a disappointed noise at the lost contact, then arched his back when he felt the cool liquid against his entrance. 

 

“Is this all right? Are you sure?” Asked the lieutenant as he smeared lube against Connor, then his cock. He slowly lined up, waiting for Connor’s approval.

 

“I’m more than certain, Hank,” he nodded confidently, his hands now rubbing soft circles into Hank’s shoulders as he was hovered over. The android reached up, one hand curled against Hank’s face fondly. “I’ve never desired anything as much as I have this.”

 

“Fuck, Connor.” Hank gazed at the brunette for a moment, admiring him before sliding in slowly. He hadn’t quite bottomed out yet when he had to stop, taking a deep breath and trying not to cum quickly because of how tight and hot Connor felt around his cock. It was better than anything he’d ever felt. 

 

Connor squirmed, letting out a sound akin to a sigh with his LED cycling cherry red, “Please,” he asked desperately. His processors whirring and trying to cool his body down, mouth sighing out hot air. 

 

Hank nodded, leaning to press their foreheads together, “Patience,” he croaked, pushing in further and bottoming out in the android with a lengthy groan. “Fuck, you feel fantastic. Jesus.”

 

Daring not to open his eyes, Connor whimpered his response, brows knit together in pleasure, “You are far bigger than I believed you to be.”

 

“Should I be flattered?” Chuckled Hank, beginning to pull out and then slowly push back in. Teasingly and gratingly slow. He wanted to see how far he could push the android before he snapped.

 

“Perhaps,” choked out Connor with a strained moan. He bucked his hips, attempting to provide himself with more stimulation. When one of Hank’s hands pinned the android’s hip, Connor’s free hand slid down to his waist, determined to offer his needy length the friction it desired. Once more, Hank stopped him, a brow arched in question at the brunette below him.

 

“I’m interested in seeing how far I can get you without you touching yourself,” he stated, a hint of challenge in his tone. At this, Connor lied back against the pillows on the bed, letting hot air pour from his processors in a huff to emphasize his feigned displeasure. The android nodded in acceptance, queuing Hank to begin thrusting again but picking up speed.

 

With his hands gripping the younger male’s hips, Hank pulled Connor back against his cock every time he slammed in, pulling moan after moan from the desperate android’s lips.

 

“Hank,” he choked out, closing his eyes and pushing his head back against the pillows. He reached up, burying a hand in silver hair and the other resting on his lover’s shoulder as Hank rammed into him, then began changing the angle he used to penetrate Connor. “I...I feel overwhelmed, Hank,” he whimpered, brows drawn together so tightly that he almost appeared in pain, despite the blissed out sounds slipping from his swollen lips.

 

“It’s all right, darling,” he reassured, cupping Connor’s face with one hand as he continued to angle his hips up into the android. “Hang on for me, okay?” Hank asked as he continued to thrust, hitting a particular bundle of nerves that wrenched a sob from Connor and made him buck his hips needily.

 

“Please let me,” began the brunette, hiccuping on a deep breath in, “Let me touch myself. I can’t…” His LED almost looked as though it was a brighter red.

 

Connor once more tried to stroke himself, so Hank took both of the android’s wrists, pinning them above his head. “Trust me, all right?” He asked softly, still keeping rhythm with his thrusts. “You can break free if you need to,” Hank told him, but began snapping his hips deeper and harder inside of Connor, who groaned at the sensation of being restrained and fucked into oblivion.

 

A few moments later, Hank leaned down, kissing the hollow of Connor’s jugular and then moving his lips to the android’s neck, his beard scratching as he sucked a dark bruise into Connor’s neck, his thrusts dually punishing. A broken sound dropped from Connor’s lips and his body stiffened, back arching off the bed as a clear liquid squirted from his cock. 

 

Feeling Connor’s body tighten around him, Hank groaned, releasing his own orgasm and pressing his forehead to the brunette’s collarbone as he came. With the both of them panting, the curled in on one another. Hank holding Connor’s face in his hands after releasing his wrists, gazing at him fondly.

 

“Glad you moved in,” he said gruffly, a crooked smile gracing his lips.

 

“Happy to have a neighbor like you,” winked Connor experimentally. Hank laughed, planting a kiss to the android’s cheek and surprising himself with the act of intimacy. Kissing after sex hadn’t been his forte for decades. But everything with Connor felt a little better, and a little easier.

 

Especially when he pulled out of the brunette, tossing the condom in the trash, and wrapped his arm around Connor to pull him close in his bed. The android pressed closer, resting his spinning yellow then soon blue LED on the man’s chest, one hand over his lover’s heart and the other tucked into his side.

 

Hank swore he didn’t plan on falling asleep and didn’t notice he had until he heard a yell from the other room:

 

“Connor!” Shouted Cole from the other room. Hank’s blood ran cold and he found the space beside him empty. The kid got dropped off early. He immediately slipped on some pajamas and made his way to the kitchen with his heart jumping to his throat.

 

“Hello, Cole,” came Connor’s soft reply. He could tell the android was hugging Cole by how muffled his greeting sounded. 

 

Hank entered the room to find the brunette kneeling and hugging his son tightly. He smiled. Maybe Cole coming home early wasn’t the worst thing that could ever happen. Looking over, he saw an opened beer on the counter, realizing that Connor had gotten up from bed and dressed in his sweats just to get him a beer. 

 

“Dad, why is Connor here?” Asked Cole when he pulled away from Connor, simultaneously pulling Hank from his thoughts.

 

“Uhh…” 

 

“Your father and I have begun seeing one another. Dating, I believe. Am I mistaken?” Confirmed Connor, looking over at Hank with his brows knit just slightly. Hank prayed Cole didn’t ask what the marks on the android’s neck were. 

 

“That’s right, actually,” smiled Hank. Happy he could say something like that. “Connor will probably be over here a bit more often than usual.”

 

Cole’s eyes lit up with excitement and he slung his arms around Connor’s waist once more, causing the android to let out a brief chuckle and place a hand in the kid’s hair, softly brushing his fingers through the strands of sandy blonde. “Yay!”

 

Hank noted that his son didn’t even seem the least bit surprised. In fact, he looked like he expected this outcome. As though something he’d been hoping for finally happened, like a hopeful trip to Disneyland.

 

Maybe Cole was pushing them to spend more time together all along. Hank wondered if he even had a project to do that night. He smiled to himself. He raised a good kid. Smart one, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heartfelt conversation inspired by When The Darkness Comes by Shelby Merry.
> 
> I am slowly making my way up to dominating top Connor from blushing virgin Connor, so I hope you enjoyed some confident adjacent-bottom Connor.
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoyed this! Feel free to comment or hit me up on tumblr. :) Your support is endlessly cherished!

**Author's Note:**

> When I say slow burn, I mean it, haha.
> 
> If you want to see immediate updates, feel free to follow me on [tumblr](https://eyrror.tumblr.com). Or even if you want to say hello!


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